


Human Resources

by Broken_Clover



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Abduction, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Other, Skinning, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Custom-tailored Gear boots for sale, now only $75 per pair!
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Even if I wasn't doing goretober I felt contractually obligated to make at least one gory slightly fucked up thing, though I promise this time it's h/c instead of just the h. 
> 
> Partly inspired by something in canon, there's a dragon that has its meat cut out and served while still alive (albeit sleeping/'dormant') since it can just grow back after it is butchered an eaten.

“Leatherwork crafts for sale!”

“High-quality tooled leather, priced for the working man’s wallet!”

“Boots, bags, coats- anything you could want!”

Illyria had a bustling weekend market, with booth after booth staking their claims every saturday morning to shout from under awnings or atop market carts. It was always a little more on the raucous side, but a handful of guardsmen had been deployed by the First King to ensure it was no more than farmers and artisans hawking their wares.

“G’day, missus! Could I interest you in a new leather handbag?”

The little red tent wasn’t new, nor was the man that ran it, though he had the enthusiasm of a newcomer. A portly, kindly-faced man of middle age ran it solely by himself, repeatedly waving at passers-by and fanning his hands over the array of goods he had at his table.

“Hello there, my good sir! Could I interest you in any of my high-quality leatherwork products today?”

It wasn’t the most popular tent, but it did see a significant amount of foot traffic. He was quick to greet every visitor with a warm smile, and introduced them to what he had to offer.

“Ah, welcome, welcome!” He approached one such individual, noting his focus on the row of footwear. “How might I be able to help you today?”

“Jus’ lookin.” The slow, deliberate drawl said ‘countryside,’ and the calluses on his hands shouted ‘laborer.’ “All this stuff real hide?”

“100 percent real!” The salesman replied. “We’re a small-scale tannery, me and my wife. It’s tough work, but the quality we get from it is worth it! Was there anything in specific you were hoping to find?”

He nodded. “‘m a farmhand, need a good set a’ boots to keep mah feet dry. Got pulled in by the ones you had on display.”

“Boots? We have plenty! Feel free to look as long as you’d like.”

“Mmph.”The man knelt down for a better look at a few of the shoes, thumbing the polished crimson leather and taking a glance at the tags tied onto the laces. “Huh. Real decent price.” He went back to looking them over, as though in disbelief. “I’ve never seen leather a’ this quality, y’sure this isn’t a swindle?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir! That’s the highest-quality Gear leather!

The farmer paused, giving him a peculiar look. “It’s _what?”_

“I know how it sounds.” The other man nodded patiently. “See, my wife and I live out in the countryside. War might be over, but there’s still a fair amount of Gears running around, and the military isn’t especially concerned with small settlements like ours. We’re used to having to deal with them. For the longest time, we’d just burn the things. But eventually I thought, ‘such a waste, surely there must be something to do with them!’ Trying to eat them seemed unhealthy, but after some experimentation, we found that they can be used to make perfectly wonderful leather! Their hides are naturally very tough, so their pelts are incredibly durable. And they barely need any upkeep! Can’t remember the last time I had to oil my own boots."

“Huh.” He seemed convinced by the concept. “Never really thought about it that way. Nice ta see Gears are good for somethin’.”

“Not too hard to come by, either! Almost surprised I haven’t seen it around more. But for now, I’m happy to provide it for others! So, can I get you a pair of boots today?”

The farmer was quiet, before throwing up his hands. “Ah, what the hell. ‘s cheap enough that if they do rip up in a work season or two, it ain’t really a loss. Gimme the ones with the black laces, if ya would. Size twelve.”

“Certainly!” The man’s purchase was quickly rung up and bagged. As soon as the money exchanged hands, the seller waved his customer goodbye with another friendly smile. “Thank you for your patronage! I hope those shoes serve you well!”

More customers were already walking past his stall. “Custom leather goods, tanned by hand!”

++++++

“Darling, I’m home!”

“Ah, I was wondering if you’d be back soon!” A rosy-cheeked woman put down a half-stitched coat and rose to greet her husband. He offered her back a one-armed hug, careful to keep a paper-wrapped package balanced in his other arm. “How did the market go?”

He gave her a kiss on the head. “Splendid, absolutely splendid! I’d dare say the cart was twice as heavy as it was when I pulled it out this morning than it was when I put it back! We sold quite a lot of goods! I bought a raspberry pie to celebrate.”

“Honey, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad to hear it.” The woman nodded brightly. “I never imagined we’d do this well. At this point, things are selling almost as fast as I can make them!”

“It’s all because of your craftsmanship that they’re so popular, Aileen. I just tan the hides.” He smiled coyly, placing his pie on the kitchen table. Speaking of which, how was the harvest? Hope it wasn’t too much trouble on your own.”

She shook her head. “So troublesome today! Had to electrocute him for nearly a half hour before he settled down! My magic reserves are nearly gone. Couldn’t even get everything done.”

“That long? I see…”

“I’m sorry, honey. I really tried my best.”

“No, no, I’m sure you did. You shouldn’t overexert yourself, I’ll go finish it for you, alright?”

“Alright. But don’t take too long, I’m dying to try that pie you brought back.”

“I’ll be back before you know it!”

The man exited his house again, rounding the side and kneeling down at the cellar door. He took a moment to dust away a few flakes of pain before hauling it open and making his way down the cracked concrete stairs. With the money they were making, perhaps it would be worth it to repaint the doors and re-set the stairs? He would have to ask Aileen and see what she thought. Or, perhaps, even a replacement cellar? Theirs wasn’t huge, it was spacious enough for storage but still a tad cramped. He filed it away as a possible idea for a surprise Christmas present.

He reached up and clicked on the ceiling light, smiling another warm smile.

“Hello, there! Sounds like you gave my Aileen quite a bit of difficulty today!”

A low growl greeted him in reply. Something metal scraped across the concrete, but only briefly before going silent again.

“You’ve really got quite a bit of energy! I hope that means you’ve been using it well.” 

Another little grumble, less irate and more frustrated.

“You’ve made a lot of people happy today, you know!”

That finally got a real response. The metal banged back and forth to the sound of muffled roars, and a few sparking cinders that couldn’t find anything to catch. All the while, a peculiar wet slap echoed in the far corners. The man took a startled step back, but regained his calm expression.

“Finally decided to calm down?”

“You…” The growl formed itself into a voice. 

He tilted his head. “Hm? Yes?”

The figure on the floor looked quite a bit different than it had originally. He still half-expected to see large wings unfurl on the thing’s back- of course, he himself had cut them off again that very morning, and they hadn’t been given enough time to start forming new bone. 

“You…” The voice creaked again. “Bastard-”

“Edward.” He replied calmly. “But like I said, feel free to call me Ed!”

 _“Manson.”_ The dragon snarled, dragging himself across the concrete with bandaged arms. They, like its wings, still had not been able to regrow beyond useless stumps. “I’ll _kill_ you.”

“Oh my, definitely a bit feistier than usual…” It seemed he had to revoke his former statement. One stub had started to sprout the curve of a hand, and a rudimentary finger or two. My, these things really were impressive! But so very, very inconvenient. “Let’s fix that, okay?”

From one of the shelves nearby, Ed pulled down a two-handled mallet. Without any hesitation, he brought it down on the creature’s head. It wasn’t enough to fully break the bone, but it was certainly enough to kill a human, meaning it would put a Gear out of commission for a bit of time, enough at least for him to set up. He’d been a lot more cautious at first, so much so that his precious resource had almost managed to escape a few times. But he knew better now. He knew those creatures tended to be a lot more durable. They were hard to kill, and healed quickly. But that was what made them perfect.

He snapped on a pair of gloves, and got out his set of tools.

Ed knelt down, taking a moment to stroke a gnarled patch of skin where a Gear mark had once been on the thing’s dented forehead. For good measure, he released a little jolt of electricity into it, then got to work affixing the second set of chains and putting his object of interest into its proper position.

_“Khh...ghhh-”_

Just sit still, alright? You know how much more difficult it is to work with you getting all wiggly!”

Just as he’d suspected, a reel of skin still clung to its back, attached by a good strip of flesh between its shoulder blades. Ed picked through his tools until he found the curved blade of the skinning knife.

“Don’t…” With what few teeth it had, the thing tried to bare them at him. “Don’t you _dare- AAAAAAAAAA!”_

He slid a glove back on once he was sure the electricity would keep it quiet for a bit. It had been muzzled, of course, but that worked more for biting than for talking. Perhaps he could try cutting its vocal cords? Just his luck, they would only grow back. But even if it was temporary, it could be helpful.

Ed could still feel it twitch as the sharp end of his knife dipped under its skin, following the half-worn lines Aileen had made earlier. A few thin connections had been formed since she’d left it hanging freely, but he sliced through them easily and led the blade up the back to the same spot where they always cut. It really would have been more economical to take the whole thing off, skinning it the same way they did with rabbits and cattle, but peeling a hide from a live specimen was quite a bit more difficult, and half the time all the wiggling lead to errant punctures that just utterly ruined parts of it. Even if they could only manage strips at a time, it was still far more efficient than normal animals, and much sturdier.

“Thought I told you not to wiggle, hehe!” He tutted, attempting to sever the last few centimeters. “I don’t understand why you’re so resistant. It doesn’t take that long to grow back, you aren’t really losing anything in the end!”

When the long strip was finally pulled free, the creature’s nerves were still so damaged that it couldn’t quite manage moving aside from pitiful twitches, though it didn’t stop it from trying. Ed got back up and placed the skin into a bucket of water and chemicals to pre-treat it in preparation for tanning. 

“Good work! That’ll make a lovely coat, or a splendid pair of gloves!”

There was a visceral hatred in the Gear’s one remaining eye, but it remained sprawled out on the floor, chained and twitching as its bones attempted to fix themselves. Ed paid it no mind, merely washing up, placing his tools back where they belonged, and heading for the cellar door again.

“Dinner’s at seven! I’ll bring you a plate.”

Aileen had gone back to her sewing at the table by the time he returned. Her hands were as sure and diligent as always, but her expression was almost uneasy.

“Is he alright down there?” She asked, the faintest hint of concern in her voice. “That was an awful loud scream…”

“Just intimidation, dear.” He gave his wife a pat on the back. “Gears don’t really feel pain, remember? Now, why don’t we get started on that pie!”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I can help you.”

“Yes, I see...thank you for your time.”

Ky let his shoulders sag as soon as the door was closed behind him. Sin’s gait remained a bit more spirited as he hopped back down the porch, though not by much. 

“I still think he looked guilty.”

“We’ll turn over every stone we can, Sin.” The king replied. “But not yet. For now we ask.”

Ask, and plaster signs. Sin pulled another piece of paper from his pack and tacked it on a nearby street lamp. _‘Have You Seen This Man?’_ Was printed across the top in solid letters, framing a crisp image of Sol’s face scowling at the camera.

“What sorta person would be able to do that to the old man? He’s crazy strong! Are you sure he isn’t just camping on a mountain somewhere hunting wild Gears?”

Ky’s expression remained taut. “I gave him my emergency cell. He doesn’t always respond, but if he hasn’t been able to respond to me in over three months, that has to mean something is wrong.”

Sin wasn’t so well-convinced of foul play, but it really had been a long time, and he didn’t really have much else to go on aside from Ky’s stressed ramblings, enough times to the point of almost believing him.

“I just dunno what going door-to-door’s gonna do, you already have the investigation team looking for him.”

Ky was so frazzled, he could barely hear him. “Have you finished with that sign? I’m heading over to the next house.”

The boy simply rolled his eyes and trotted after his father.

At least it felt less redundant with the houses being spaced out. It was a small village, not much too it, though it only made Sin wonder just how much good this was doing. All it felt like they were accomplishing was bothering people and getting nowhere.

Ky took a breath and stood up straight, before knocking on the door. After a minute or so, man opened it. “H’llo?”

“Good morning, sir.” The king gave him a cordial nod. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I was wondering if I could ask you-”

“Your majesty?” The man nearly dropped his toothpick when his jaw went slack. He immediately stood up straight, dusting himself off. “Sorry about the state ‘o me, just got back home this mornin’. Back from Illyria, in fact.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Anyway, I’m trying to find a missing person, has anyone new come into your town in the last few months?”

“New folk?” He scratched the back of his head. “Sure, lots a’ folks come through lookin’ for farm work. Mind tellin’ me a little more about yer guy? Might’ve already hired ‘em, heh!”

Ky nodded again. “Yes, yes, of course. He’s about six feet tall, dark brown hair-”

“Where did you get those boots?”

“Sin!” Ky hissed under his breath. “Where are your manners?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” The man replied. “Bought ‘em a few weeks ago back at the market. Purty, innit? Guy said it was made outta Gear leather.”

Ky’s words caught in his throat. “Gear...leather?”

“Yeah! Real smart guy, he sounded like. Usin’ those dead bodies we get pilin’ up round here fer somethin’ useful. Pulls the skins off ‘em and makes ‘em into...shit, anything, really.”

He couldn’t make himself turn away, but out of the corner of his eye, he could swear Sin looked moments away from losing his lunch. “I-I see. You, erm, wouldn’t happen to know where he _gets_ those…’skins’ of his, would you?”

The other man scoffed. “Dunno. Prolly any of the things runnin’ around the woods.” He paused, tapping his chin. “Actually, haven’t even seen any of ‘em lately. Maybe he finally killed off all the wild ones? I dunno.”

Ky’s heart was beating in his throat. “Who sold them to you. Where are they.”

“Woah, you okay, your majesty? You went pale all of a-”

“Answer the question.”

The man recoiled. “Awright, awright. Dunno the name. Big guy, sorta bald, real nice smile. Uh, might be nearby, actually, now that I think about it. Guy only sells at the big market but I think I might’ve seen ‘em round here. You already ask a lotta people ‘bout your friend?”

“Quite a few, yes.” Ky nodded. “Thank you for your help, I’ll leave you to your business.”

“Anytime, your majesty!” A hat tilted his way. “Not sure what I did, though.”

“What made you ask about the boots?” As soon as they were back on the main road, Ky turned to his son.

Sin shuddered with revulsion. “The color looked familiar. I didn’t like that it looked familiar.”

“I have to admire your eye for detail.” The king’s expression was grim. “But let’s just hope it was a coincidence.”

++++++

It seemed that, even if it wasn’t, the idea wasn’t of much use to them at all. The two of them had been wandering through the town for hours, and the sun was setting without even an inkling of success. Nobody had seen any sign of Sol, or seemed to know anything about the leathermaker. Sin had begun complaining of tired feet, and though he didn’t admit it himself, Ky was feeling plenty worn-down, himself. It felt selfish to turn in for the night, but his energy was practically gone.

“C’mooon,” Sin protested, despite complaining of his own tiredness not a minute ago, “one more? Just one more?”

“You’ve said that six times now. All the while, you keep saying you’re exhausted. Which one is it?”

“I wanna keep looking! But my feet hurt.”

Ky willed himself to be patient. Sin’s adamance to keep looking was still rather impressive, even if he lacked the energy to back up his intentions. “Fine. One more house. But that is it. As soon as we finish, we’re heading back for the station.”

“But-” Sin tried to protest, but he cut himself off with a sigh. “Okay.”

The next house was a fair bit further than either of them had been expecting. The village was a little closer-knit near the center, but buildings gradually grew more and more spaced out until they had to carefully spot them somewhere within the bushes. It really was only a few minutes more, but after doing the same task for hours and hours, they managed to notice the smallest of differences as they built up.

“We can come back in the morning, right?

“Of course, Sin. But we can’t run ourselves ragged. We need our sleep.”

He scoffed. “Who cares about sleep when the old man is missing? How can I just go to bed and pretend nothing’s- gah!”

“Sin?” Ky immediately turned. “What’s wrong?”

“Dammit, _ow_.” Sin was hunched over, grumbling to himself. “Sonuva-”

As they’d rounded the side of the house, Sin had managed to miss a loose cinderblock buried halfway in the dirt.

“Oh. Oh, dear.” Ky tried to hide his sliver of amusement as he patted his son on the back. “I suppose Gears aren’t immune to stubbed toes.”

“Guh, I’ve been thrown into trees before, why does _this_ hurt so much??” His disgruntled rambling ended as he spotted something else. “Huh? What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Ky followed his line of sight until it fell on a half-rusted door sticking out of the ground at an angle. “It’s a cellar.”

“Oh. What’s it for?”

“Storage, mostly. Tools, furniture, pickling jars-”

Sin perked up, completely forgetting about his feet. “There’s pickles down there?! Why didn’t you tell me- !”

“Sin-” Ky cut him off as he began pulling the door open. “You can’t just barge in like that!”

He drooped, dropping it closed again. “Right. Sorry. I get hungry when I’m tired.”

The man gave him his best reassuring smile. “As soon as we finish up, we can buy dinner at the station, alright? Just a few more minutes.”

The windup was the same as it had been all day. Ky stepped up the porch stairs, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders yet again, and gave the door a resounding knock.

“Just a moment!” A voice called from inside. Ky fiddled with his sleeve cuffs. Sin rocked on his heels.

A sleepy-eyed, middle-aged woman swung the door open. “Hello?”

“Good evening, ma’am.” Said Ky. “I apologize for bothering you so late, is it alright if I ask a few questions?”

It took her a moment to respond. “O-of course, sir. My husband’s asleep, but I’d be happy to answer anything I can.”

“Wonderful. I appreciate your compliance.” He nodded, feeling a crick in his neck from doing that all day. “I’ve been going around in search of a missing person. He’s about six feet tall, long brown hair, and he always wears a red metal headband. Has anyone like that passed through recently?”

“Oh, is he your husband?”

“It’s- “ Ky stuttered, “no, just a very good friend of mine. Like I said, he’s been missing, and I want to make sure he’s alright.”

“I see, I see.” The woman nodded knowingly. “What did you say his name was?”

“Sol. Sol Badguy.”

“Sol…?” Her expression shifted.

Ky immediately pounced on it. “Was he here?”

After a few moments, she shook her head. “I though I recognized that name, for a moment. But I really can’t recall.”

Sin grew crestfallen. “Seriously? You don’t know anything, lady?”

“Sin-” Ky moved to chastise him again, but found no energy to do so. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ve just been at this a long time, and haven’t found any sign of him.”

“It’s alright. I can understand. I know hired farm hands come through every so often, but I’m just a seamstress, I don’t bump into many of them. I’m probably the last person who could help you in this situation.”

The king slumped in defeat. “I see.”

“I’m very sorry, sir.”

“It seems that’s our cue to leave, Sin.” With a curt wave, Ky turned and walked back off the porch. He was ready to sullenly stride all the way back to the station, but found himself dragging to a stop when Sin wasn’t following him. “Sin? Are you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. G’night lady.” Sin hopped off after him, managing to catch up in a few strides.

“Are you so tired you’ve started spacing out?” Asked Ky, with almost a hint of amusement.

The boy shook his head. “Nah. Thought I heard something. Like, metal clanging? Must've just been my imagination, though.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't plan on this being put out so late, but I wanted to retool it a little. Time for the fluffy part!
> 
> I also didn't go into this meaning for it to be shippy, but I feel like comfort tenderness could be read either way, so feel free to do as you please. Enjoy!

Sol could measure everything in his recent memory through touch alone. The rough claws of wild gears battering against him. Coarse rope binding his limbs and the dull itch of being dragged across the dirt. Pain, pain, pain, pain, _pain oh god where were his wings, why were his hands gone why could he see his muscles raw and bending why wouldn’t his head stop **burning-**_

The one consistent comfort he had was the firm coolness of the concrete floor he was stuck on, meeting him with a calm embrace whenever he collapsed. The only respite in his new world of suffering. Measuring things with sensations, at times, was practically mandatory, with how often his eyes were stabbed out as punishment.

Sol wasn’t easy to unsettle, but this...this was something else. It was like being tied down on Asuka’s table again, but with no pretense of a noble goal behind it or the paltry reassurance that his old associate’s hands were trained and careful. He was nothing more than prized cattle, denied the mercy of a quick slaughter.

He had seen what he was used for. The man who had tied him up and locked him away always wore a pair of boots made from his skin. It was the first thing he saw whenever he came back to steal more from him, along with that fucking smile like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The sound of the cellar door opening was always a roulette, but he always lost no matter how the dice rolled. At best, a plate of food was placed in front of him, always flavored by the blood in his mouth. They’d poke and prod his injuries- how they’d _mutilated_ him- and either remark how fast he healed, or how little of him had grown back since they had cut into him earlier in the day, and leave, usually electrocuting the raw patch on his forehead for good measure. 

That, despite everything else they had done to him, had to have been the most painful injury of all. On the first day of being dragged into the cellar, they had cut off his headpiece and peeled away the square of skin above his forehead. He never had enough rest or energy to even try disguising himself in his human skin, but even if he did, he wasn’t sure it would be possible without a proper magical conduit anymore. The broken metal and his Gear mark had been tacked on the far wall, always taunting him, always a reminder, as though he could ever forget for a second that he was living in a world of darkness and agony.

The first time the cellar had opened and nothing happened, Sol was too confused to even try and react. Someone _always_ came down, the thought of making more valuable Gear leather brought the two of them down every single day, regardless of weather. But nobody had come.

“Why didn’t you tell me-”

“Sin!”

Those voices...he knew those voices! 

He had no fingers or claws to drag himself across the ground with, so he had to resort to trying to prop himself up on his elbows. The movement made the giant raw patch on his back flare up, sending him back to the floor immediately after. Sol tried to take a few breaths and gain some energy, but the second attempt was even more fruitless than the first.

“You can’t just barge in like that!” It was undeniably Ky’s voice, tired and strained but painfully familiar. Sol couldn’t think of a time where the thought of having Ky Kiske show up would make him legitimately _cry_ , it was probably just the massive amounts of pain making him delirious but he couldn’t find it in him to care much for dignity.

He wanted to scream for their attention. But Edward had sliced his throat that morning, and his chords had yet to heal. The best he could manage was an incoherent crackle, only audible to someone with his sensitive hearing like his.

The cellar door slammed closed again, and Sol felt his heart drop with it.

No, no! Where were they going?! They had been a few feet away, he had been so close, why couldn’t he just scream or bang around and get their attention? How could he get them to listen?!

Sol gave a mournful, noiseless howl, making his chains grind from how little he could squirm. Even if he strained his ears, he could only hear the two’s footsteps walking away from him. That alone was a deeper agony than even his Gear mark being scraped off, that faint bit of hope just tangible enough to taunt him before being snatched away again.

He was almost grateful when Aileen came down to prod at him again. At least it gave him something else to think about.

++++++

“...Old man?”

Sol’s horns twitched at a soft voice, setting off what was likely going to be his usual constant headaches throughout the day with a throb of pain in his temples and forehead. He tried to brace himself for the ensuing pain with whatever his half-conscious body could muster.

And it didn’t come.

Wait a moment, who was…?

Not willing to allow himself hope, Sol slowly tried to open his eyes- still only one working, but at least it worked well. Well enough to see his vision not filled with Ed’s leather boots or Aileen’s house slippers, but a pair of scratched-up loafers, and the end of a pole scraping the ground.

A little something fizzled weakly in his chest, despite his attempts to quash it.

“S...in?” He managed to whisper, through his half-healed throat.

“Oh my god.” Sin dropped his flagpole. For as fast as he turned, Sol could still see the boy’s eye turning watery. “DAD!”

Somewhere in the near distance, Sol could make out another familiar voice. “Sin? What are you doing?”

“I KNEW IT! I knew there was something weird!” Sin shrieked, abuzz with some emotion he couldn’t recognize. “He’s here!! I found him!! In the cellar! The old man’s in the cellar!!”

Those familiar, faraway footfalls were moving closer, and fast. The swell of hope in his chest was becoming too much for Sol to handle. This couldn’t really be happening. It couldn’t be.

“What?! Sin, what did you say- ?”

Ky’s shadow fell over him like an angel as he stood at the top of the cellar stairs. The wind blew his cloak around his shoulders, but the sky silhouetting him was bright. Ky looked no different than he had months ago, still with that rigid, kingly demeanour and neutral expression.

That regal persona lasted mere moments before it vanished completely.

“Sol…?”

He rushed down the stairs faster than any human should have been able to. Sol could pinpoint the exact moment Ky noticed the wounds and confinements; his eyes went wide and damp and a hand flew up to cover his mouth.

Sin had noticed the state of him as well. “Holy shit.” The nausea in his voice was tangible. “What did they _do_ to him?!”

Slowly, delicately, the king lowered onto his knees, extending his hands out to the other man’s ruined form. Ky’s touch was painfully gentle. Sol still flinched as he was first touched, but Ky didn’t pull back. He cupped the dragon’s cheek, gingerly stroking his scales until Sol felt himself sink into Ky’s hand.

“Sol- ! Oh, Sol…” Ky’s voice dropped to a whisper as he cradled his muzzle in his lap. “I’m so sorry…”

It was hard to focus on much else but Ky’s caress. A soft kiss to his forehead made the raw skin sting, yet it still felt like heaven, like safety. He was supposed to be unbreakable, impenetrable, unflappable. But he’d never felt any safer than he did in that moment in the man’s hold.

“H-hold on!” Sin moved further back into the cellar. “I can probably bust these chains up!”

“Be careful, Sin.” Ky said, and Sol knew that he meant it more for him than for Sin. Ky turned his attention back to him as soon as the clanging started. “God, I can’t understand this. Have you really been here all this time? God Almighty, I...I’m so, so sorry, Sol. I promise this will never happen again, I won’t let anyone hurt you like this…”

While Sin hammered away at the chains, Ky unwound the coarse rope they had used to wrap up his arm stubs. Sol had never seen such a look of disgust before. From his robe’s many pockets, he pulled a roll of gauze and started to rewrap.

“I promise, the castle medics will do whatever necessary to help you heal.” The man’s voice stayed low and gentle, like speaking too loud was enough to harm him further. “This is just first aid. As soon as I finish with these, I’m going to call Leo and Daryl for backup. I thought about bringing more emergency supplies, but I never would have imagined you were…”

“HOLD IT! What the hell do ya think you’re doing?!”

The voice felt like venom to Sol’s ears. He prayed it was just his imagination, but a familiar pair of red boots came into his field of view. Ed was holding a fistful of lightning, Aileen held a frying pan, and both of their pleasant smiles were long gone.

Ky’s voice grew cold and sharp. “You…”

The two’s malice immediately softened. “Your majesty? What’re you doing here?” The man asked.

He did not soften, not even slightly. “I was here three days ago. Looking for a missing person.”

The woman was incredulous. “I remember, yeah. But I told you! We haven’t seen him. Now, king or not, you can’t just come bargain’ into our house without any rhyme or reason!” She protested. “So can you please leave!”

_“You haven’t seen him?”_ Ky hissed. “Then why is there a man on your cellar floor with half his body gone?!”

Despite his hardly-veiled fury, neither of them appeared especially appalled. “I don’t know what the issue is, here.” Ed shrugged. “Dunno if you haven’t noticed, your majesty, but that’s no man. It’s a _monster_. And monsters aren’t good for anything but dying.”

“How does that end up with you ripping his skin off?!” Sin shouted, still missing his staff but no less confident for it. “How could you do that to _anyone??”_

“Listen, kid.” The man went on, still completely content. “You look too young to have seen the war. You never got to see what those _things_ can do. They burned everything, ripped folks to shreds in seconds. They never stopped, and they never did anything but destroy until someone chopped their damn head off. What’s the harm in making some good out of it all? Gears can heal. Everything grows back. Who loses in the situation?”

Sin grit his teeth, electrical sparks bouncing off of his body. _“I’m gonna SHOW you a loser!!”_

Before Sin could leap headlong into a fight, Sol felt the hands on him move away. As delicately as he’d been picked up, Ky set him back down on the floor to stand up. His cheeks were red and blotchy, and his robes were stained in blood, but Ky still managed to square his shoulder with confidence.

“Alright.” He said. “I consider myself a perfectly reasonable man.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Aileen said. “I’m glad we could talk this out.”

Ky’s hand moved towards the hilt of his sword. “And that is why I’m going to give you five seconds.”

The two of them suddenly seemed to realize the situation they were in. They scrambled over each other, frantically thundering back up the stairs. They were still only able to get as far as the grass before Sol watched two blurs of lightning rush past him in pursuit. It was hard to discern much of what was happening. He could hear the screams, and every so often watched a bolt of lightning jolt over the open doors, but nothing more than that.

Despite the noise, Sol felt sleepy. Not even the persistent, painful tiredness he was used to, but something gentler. He found himself nuzzling his half-bandaged arm and trying to find a comfy way to settle down on the cool floor.

After a few more arcs of lightning, the footsteps returned. For a half-second he worried who would be coming back, but Ky’s sigh of exertion gave it away. Sin slid to the ground, looking worn-down but still with enough energy to give Sol a smile.

Sol slowly turned to Ky. He couldn’t make his voice say the words he was thinking, but his expression was enough to ask it for him.

“Alive.” Replied Ky, almost disgusted. “But they’re going to rot in prison.”

Sin got to work attempting to undo his chains again. Ky retrieved his limiter and mark before sending out an emergency distress signal back to the castle. As soon as he seemed sure it had been heard, Ky knelt down by his side.

“It’s okay, now.” His voice dropped back into that caring whisper. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here.”

It was easy to fall back into his touch. His arms were bandaged, and Sin gave a cheerful whoop with every chain broken. The simple rhythm of Ky petting him was enough to put him at ease. He couldn’t care about anything else.

“They’ll be here soon.” Ky assured him. “You can rest, if you want to.”

Sol didn’t like uncertainty, and he especially wasn’t fond of putting his trust in others. But still, without hesitation, he found himself nodding off as his head was stroked. If it was Ky there, then he felt safe.


End file.
